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Sometime around late morning, Shunsui was roused by a hand slipping beneath his uniform to brush against the nape of his neck.
“Your hairpin was slipping.”
The fingertips prodding against his spine, slender and calloused and firm, their cold a blessed reprieve from the cloying sweat-damp hair they displaced, were nowhere near his hairpins.
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Transience of Eternity by ath3alin
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old men yaoi end game <3